Zoey's War
by Rahlian
Summary: Sixteen years after the Black Sun incident, Jodie is living with Stan, Jimmy, Walter, Tuesday and Zoey, preparing for the day of the next Black Sun. That day has arrived.
1. Tomorrow When The War Began

**Zoey's War**

**Tomorrow When The War Began**

**November 1st, 2029**

"COME ON! Stop trying to hit me and HIT ME!"

Zoey's mouth curls into a snarl and she leaps at me, crossing the five feet separating us in the blink of an eye. I smile as I take three steps back, weathering the teenager's flurry of punches and kicks without letting a single one through. I block a right hook with my left forearm and lash out at Zoey's right foot with my left as it comes off the floor for a kick. I step in close to box her ears but she retracts her arms and knocks both of mine wide. That is not enough for her to land a blow though as I retreat again, bending back and to the left, her punches catching nothing but air. I spin to the right, to Zoey's outside and stomp on her foot, pinning her in place for a moment, allowing me to drive a jab into her short ribs. That sends her stumbling, her breath leaving her in a woof. I don't let up, pivoting forward on my right foot to slide my left behind hers, striking her in the chest with both my palms. Zoey loses her balance completely, stumbling backwards into poured concrete wall of the boiler room.

I say nothing as I pop a squat in front of Zoey as she slides to the ground and keels over, gasping for breath. I didn't hold back on that last blow. "Better, my young Padawan," I say sagely, stroking my chin.

Zoey scowled at me. "Fuck you, oh wise Jedi Master."

"Ah ah, f-bombs are reserved for when you are really getting your ass kicked, not just losing at a little light sparring."

There was a knock at the door at the top of the single-story staircase that led up from the subbasement boiler room that Zoey, Stan and I were in. "And that would be the super. Looks like physical training is over for the day."

Zoey didn't say anything, just continuing to scowl at me and rub her chest. The building's supervisor was waiting in the narrow hallway that connected all the administrative and maintenance areas together. He was a somewhat overweight, congenial man in his early fifties with hair just starting to go gray. He gave the three of us a curt nod, locking the subbasement door behind us. For an extra fifty dollars a month, he let us use the subbasement to train, although he had no idea what we did down there and did not ask.

He gave the three of us a quick nod as we passed each other in the narrow hallway, Zoey and I in olive-drab short-sleeved t-shirts and shorts, Stan in his work clothes, all of us sweat-stained and smelling. The three of us ascended the three flights of stairs to apartment 3-F that we shared with Tuesday and Jimmy.

"We're back, Mom!" Zoey called from the tiny foyer as we all shed our shoes.

"Good timing," Tuesday called from the kitchenette, the sound of something sizzling on the stove. "Dinner is about ten minutes out so you two have time for a shower before we eat."

I said nothing, just walking past the dining/living room to the bedrooms. There were three of them, one shared by Tuesday and Zoey, one shared by Stan and Jimmy and mine. My bedroom was the only one with an attached bathroom, but lacked a full bath. I tossed my sweat-dampened clothes in the hamper and stepped under the cold water. I did not linger long, just long enough for a quick soap and rinse. I had been up since about six a.m. and had not had much to eat for lunch so I was more than ready to sit down and eat. It was Tuesday's turn to cook tonight and she was easily the best cook among us.

Dinner was pretty quiet, everybody focused on their food. It wasn't until plates started to be cleared that Tuesday spoke. "So how did training go today?"

"Pretty well," I said around a mouthful of food, grinning when Zoey scowled. "Zoey's hand-to-hand is just about perfect and Stan is progressing pretty well too."

"That's good. I can't imagine we have much time left." The room fell absolutely silent at Tuesday's words, Stan, Jimmy and Zoey all lowering their silverware and looking at me.

"Yeah," I replied quietly, dropping my gaze to my plate. "Zoey is about the age that she is in my vision."

Nobody said anything, gazes darting around the table. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes as the memory of the day that I had revealed who I was and what was to come to my friends rose to the fore of my mind.

_Flash!_

_It was a cool October evening, windows shut tight against the encroaching Chicago chill. Everyone was seated around the table in living room of the apartment that Stan, Jimmy, Tuesday, Zoey, Walter and I shared. "First of all, I would like to thank you all for showing up tonight."_

"_You said it was very important when we talked on the phone," Walter said quietly._

"_It is," I replied from my position at the head of the table. "This is quite seriously the most important thing that any of you will ever hear. However, before I can explain why I asked you all here tonight, I need to tell you who I am."_

"_Jodie, are you in trouble?" Stan interrupted with an upraised hand. "Because if you are, that is alright. You don't owe anyone here an explanation if you are."_

_I smiled a little. "No, Stan, I am not in trouble. At least no more than anyone else in the world is." That confused everyone. "Please, just let me speak and I am sure that I will answer any questions you might have in due course." I paused for a moment to let one of them say something, but no one did. "First of all, allow me to introduce myself. I am Jodie Holmes. I am a medium. I have been linked to the spirit of my stillborn twin brother, Aiden, since the say I was born." I proceeded to lay out my life in brief detail, from the day that I was dropped off at the Department of Paranormal Activities, to my stint as an agent of the CIA, to the Black Sun incident and my brief foray into afterlife._

"_Why are you telling us all this," Tuesday asked after several long seconds._

"_The funny thing about time is that it is a purely mortal concept. Time has no meaning in the Beyond, and as a result, when Aiden returned to me, he came with memories of the future."_

"_What did he show you?" Tuesday asked again._

_I shook my head, holding out my hands. When everyone had joined hands I closed my eyes, visualizing the psychic flame that represented my will, touching it to everyone's forehead. The vision only lasted a second, but that was more than enough to convey my message._

_Tuesday lurched to her feet, clutching Zoey to herself. "No," she breathed. "That is not Zoey; that cannot be Zoey."_

"_Yes it is, Tuesday. You saw my vision exactly how I dream it every night. All the power I have comes from my link with Aiden. Zoey has no such handicap. Her power is all her own and she is the only one that can stop the Infraworld spirits from destroying ours."_

Taking a bracing breath, I lifted my eyes and looked around the table, meeting and holding the other four members of our group in turn. "I don't need to remind any of you the stakes for which we will be fighting. You have all seen what is to come. I have spent the last seven years teaching you everything that I know in order to prepare you for it. Zoey, I hate that you have been forced to grow up faster than even I had to. You know that I would give anything to taken this burden from you, but I can't. I have spent years traveling all over the world learning as much as I can about the other side, the Infraworld, the Beyond, Heaven, Hell, anything remotely connected to the afterlife and passed it all on to you. You are an extremely potent psychic. I know that despite your age, when the time comes, whether it is tomorrow or next year, you will do what you have to stop the Infraworld spirits."

Nobody said anything for several long seconds. Zoey was focused on a knot in the grain of the wood of the table, hands clasped tightly together. "There was once a time that I felt much like you did when you were a child in the DPA labs, that I was a freak, a monster, especially when my talents started manifesting themselves. But do you want to know the one thing that you and me? It is the fact that I accept what I am. Yes, my powers mean that I will never have a normal life, but I don't want a normal life. I have something that most people will never have: a purpose. I have a destiny. I was born to fight, born to save the world. I know that I will probably never have family or friends beyond those who are sitting at this table, but I don't resent the fact. I will be a heroine, someone that will go down in the history books. You gave me purpose, Jodie, and I will never forget it or regret it."

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to wet my cheeks. I shifted my point of view to Aiden's for a moment and examined my friend's auras. Stan, Walter, Jimmy and Tuesday were surrounded by feeble green light that always seemed on the verge of dying out, but Zoey's aura burned a bright blue, the ghostly flames reaching halfway to the ceiling.

I opened my eyes again, the visualization of Zoey's psychic power leaving a brief afterimage on my physical sight.

"Just because you don't regret the loss of your childhood doesn't mean that the rest of us can't," Tuesday said. "Zoey, I am your mother. The last thing I want for you is to have to carry that kind of burden. My job is to protect you, not the other way around."

"I know, Mom. And I can't imagine what the last seven years have been like for you, and I will admit that you have been unreasonably cool about all this 'averting the end of the world' stuff."

"I saw the beginning of the end of the world. That kind of thing is pretty hard to argue with, no matter how much I want to. But I have to admit that I couldn't be prouder of the woman that you have grown into."

"As are we all," I continued.

An awkward silence spread over the table, Zoey ducking her gaze again, trying to hide smile and blush. "I know I haven't always been the easiest to get along with," I snorted, one or two particular incidents coming to mind, "but you have always been patient with me if not gentle."

"Take my word for it, Zoey, gentle is the last thing you need when training to save the world. The next Black Sun incident is going to be like Doomsday and Armageddon had a baby."

"You do know that the two are two words for the same thing right, Jodie?"

"My point is that the next Black Sun is going to make what follows look like a Disney flick. You know this, you have seen my visions. There is no amount of prepared that is enough for what is coming."

"Well, in slightly less depressing news, I brought dessert." Walter pushed his chair back and returned with a white cardboard box. I groaned, dropping my face in my hands. When I looked up, Walter had revealed a white-frosted birthday cake, thirty-nine10 candles set around the words 'Happy Birthday Jodie & Aiden.'

"You guys know I don't like birthday parties," I groused. "And that is not even considering the fact that you are a day late. I was hoping that you had forgotten."

"Well, I had a professor's conference down in St. Louis that I just got back from, you know, and we figured that we would wait until I got back so that we could celebrate together.

"Why is it you don't like to celebrate your birthday, Jodie?"

I gave Zoey a flat look. "I had a traumatic experience with one as a child."

She gave me a confused look. "How can cake and presents be traumatic?"

"Let's just say I ended up burning the house down. Not to mention that no woman likes to be reminded that she is getting older.

"Well just because you don't want to enjoy your cake, that doesn't mean that the rest of us can't enjoy it. Blow out your candles so the rest of us can enjoy it."

I did as Tuesday asked and sat back as she cut it, handing everyone a slice. I accepted mine with a small smile and a raised glass of milk in toast to Walter. Tuesday had cooked, so that meant that Zoey and I were on kitchen patrol. Unlike Stan or me, Tuesday was pretty good about not making a huge mess of the kitchen, even when she was making something that was really messy. We worked in silence for a few minutes, up to my elbows in hot soapy water while Zoey dried the dishes and put them away.

"What was it like being in the CIA?"

"What?"

"What was it like working for the CIA? You have told me a lot about the Black Sun incident, but you never talk about what you did when you worked for the government."

"That is because I did a lot of bad things in the name of our country, and few of them were good. In fact, the only good thing that I would say that came out of my time with the CIA is that they gave me the skills to train you to stop the next Black Sun. Other than that…" I shook my head. "Let's just say there were a lot of lies told."

It grew quiet again, the sound of Stan turning on the television and flipping through the channels coming from the living room. "What is it like to kill someone?"

I sighed and leaned against the sink, hanging my head. "Tonight seems to be the night for armor-piercing questions. It sucks. It was never something I liked or wanted to do. Killing with a gun or in hand-to-hand combat is bad enough. Killing with Aiden… it's a million times worse. I hope it is something that you never have to do, but we both know that you are going to. I just hope that day is a long way off."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but sometimes I wish that the next Black Sun would hurry up and erupt. I mean, it's not like I want the world to end or anything, but… I don't know. I'm just tired of hiding, tired of pretending to be normal. What is the point of being able to move things with my mind when I can't use my powers to put uppity bitches in their place?"

"Emily and her friends causing you problems again?"

Zoey scowled. "Bitch poured water over the top of the stall onto the toilet paper when I was using the bathroom and tried to trip me in the cafeteria at lunch. Emphasis on tried."

"But you didn't retaliate, did you?"

Zoey gave me a flat look. "Don't you think someone would have gotten a call from the school if I had gone Vader on their asses and Force choked them out or something? And to be frank, I thought you would have realized that you trained me better than that. It will take more than a few high-school bullies to make me turn to the Dark Side."

"Point," I allowed.

"You have shown me your memories of what McGrath did to your mother and you when you tried to leave. I know better than to do anything to attract his attention."

"Glad to hear it. But take my word when I say that I would have given anything to be able to have a fraction of the normalcy you have when I was your age. Just about every time I tried to do something normal, it backfired on me in the most humiliating and painful way. So while you may want to get on with saving the world, just keep in mind that there isn't going to be much time for eating out at restaurants and going to movies with friends once things start going to shit. Just try not to take what you have for granted."

"I know and I don't, but it's just so frustrating at times, having to hide who I really am."

"Tell you what, Zoey. The day that the DPA ignites the next Black Sun, you and I will go to your school and deliver a little karmic justice. How does that sound?"

Zoey grinned. "That sounds great."

"I though you would think so. Now, let's get these dishes finished and you can watch some television. Watch some news and then we can start our evening session."

"You know part of the reason why Emily and the rest are such bitches to me is because all I am allowed to watch are old movies and the news."

"Too much TV rots you brain. And there isn't much that has come out of Hollywood in the past ten years that can compare to the old stuff. Besides, wouldn't you rather spend your time keeping up with current events than waste your time on werewolves, vampires and time travelers?"

"I don't know what TV was like in your day, but there is more to the boob tube than TV dramas. Or so I'm told. I really wouldn't know."

"Alright, enough sass. You have an hour before evening practice."

**OoOoO**

Zoey and I sat cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, a foot apart at the foot of my bed. We stared at the digital clock on the bed, the numbers slowly ticking forward.

7:58

7:59

8:00

I nodded. Zoey closed her eyes for a moment and reopened them, eyes filmed over white. I rose up a foot off the ground, bobbing once before stabilizing. I gave Zoey a single nod before closing my eyes and _shifting_. Zoey's aura burned strong, a finger of psychic energy bridging the gap between us and embracing me. Aiden and I rose a foot above my already suspended form and struck out. There was a time where Aiden was limited to simple telekinetic bursts of force, but between my own training and Zoey's, I had become far more adept at manipulating Aiden's psychic energy.

I extended a tongue of energy, wrapping it around and entwining it with the link that connected Zoey and me. Our energies had barely begun to meld when the link flexed, thorns erupting where her energy and Aiden's touched. Aiden instinctively released his hold on the link and lashed out again without my control. Zoey reacted with instinctive speed, congealing her psychic corona so that the scalpel-like attack was ensnared and assimilated, a thousand, thousand barbs locking Aiden's attack in place and breaking it down, the pieces absorbed.

I gave Zoey a small smile, that particular technique one of the more difficult ones that I had taught her. I had not truly expected a direct attack to work, so I changed tactics. Aiden turned his focus from Zoey to some of the objects in the room. Much of her training had been in learning how to shut out distractions and interference and focus on the task at hand. Of course, I had also tried to keep her mindful of the danger that completely ignoring her surroundings invited. My first target was the alarm clock on the bed, a pinpoint TK blast first turning on the radio, preset to the local hard rock and metal station, another turning the volume up to the maximum setting.

The door to the bathroom was open so I slammed that closed. I jumped the bed and the dresser and the bookshelf, knocking several books off, generally making as much noise as possible. While the books were still tumbling from the shelf, I popped the door to my nightstand and withdrew a cup, half chilled water, a quarter ice chips and a quarter ice cubes. I floated the cup over and dumped it over her head.

She reacted with predictable surprise and I wobbled as her concentration wavered. While Zoey was undoubtedly the stronger of the two of us in terms of pure psychic power precision, my link with Aiden meant that unlike Zoey who could only affect that which she could see directly, I was not so limited and Aiden could freely move around to attack a problem from another angle.

Her surprise did not last beyond that first yelp, though, quickly scooping the ice up and returning the favor. She was not nearly quick enough to drop them down my shirt though, Aiden catching her thrust, intertwining with it, shattering it, much as she had done to my first attack. I had Aiden spread himself out, stretching his being out to wrap himself around Zoey. She immediately erupted in thorns, wicked, barbed things that would latch onto whatever they caught and never let go.

Her thorns caught nothing but air though; holes appearing in Aiden's being, moving as the thorns moved. Her lips thinned into a white line as she rose into the air, stopping when she was at eye level and rotating so that she was upside down. The thorns suddenly stopped moving, stopped trying to catch and tear into Aiden, instead lashing out with a simple psychic strike aimed at my jaw and my temple. Aiden caught both, but barely and Zoey dropped a few inches.

She struck again, forcing Aiden to split himself between holding her upside down and deflecting her heavy-handed attacks. If there was one thing that Zoey was good at, it was making use of her strength. She knew that she was not going to be able to tear herself free from Aiden's grip so she stopped trying and began attacking me directly. Scalpels, clubs, teeth, claws, her attacks came in all forms, each of them either deflected or broken and absorbed.

Normally, the idea behind these sessions were for me to try to break her concentration and force her to drop me, but Zoey wasn't taking her usual defensive footing, not that it was an issue for me. She still had to split her concentration between holding me up and attacking me. While she had more power, I had more experience, and there was little chance of her beating me in anything in a straight out brawl.

Making noise and dropping icy water hadn't worked in distracting her, so I switched tactics. I waited until Zoey's assault slowed and simply turned her around.

"Cheater!" Zoey cried out as I dropped to the ground. I grinned widely at her as I turned her back around to face me, her arms folded across her chest and had a fierce scowl on her face.

"What you call cheating, I call creative winning."

"Very funny, Jodie, but you still broke the rules."

"'Rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.'"

"That sounds like a saying."

"It's from a British World War II fighter pilot. It means that only fools blindly follow the rules. Rules are never absolutes, but rather guidelines. If you are ever losing a fight, you should be asking yourself what rules am I following that the other guy isn't?"

"That something you learned in the CIA?"

"It's something that I learned running from the CIA. It is something that I had hoped that you would come to on your own, but I suppose that is a little much to expect from a fifteen-year-old. I mean, you have been taught to follow the rules all your life, I shouldn't expect you to shake that kind of conditioning overnight. "

"While this is very educational and all, I was wondering when you were going to let me down. The blood is rushing to my head."

I gave her a nod and righted Zoey, setting her on the floor. "Is the lesson learned?"

"If you mean that I shouldn't expect you to fight fair anymore, then yes, the lesson is learned."

"Fighting fair is for suckers and losers, as I think I just proved. I want you to think on what I did tonight because tomorrow you are going to be fighting blind."

"You watch the Star Wars movies again or something, because you seem to be on a serious Obi-Wan kick lately."

"Sometimes the old ways are the best. Now, put the books back on the shelf and get to bed. You have a chem test tomorrow in fourth period if I recall correctly."

I pushed myself to my feet and left the bedroom as the music stopped and the books started floating to their spots on the bookshelf.

"Everything okay in there?"

"Nothing broken, Tuesday. Your daughter is a little wet, but otherwise fine."

"Good. I got a little worried when she screamed."

"Ice water. She's cleaning the mess up now. I didn't get the chance to ask earlier, but there haven't been any messages in today, have there?"

Walter shook his head. "Just the usual crazies on the usual sites. Nothing that seemed legitimate. Although Cole checked in. Wanted to see how you were doing. Says that Ryan has been asking after you."

I grimaced. "Isn't he always. You gave him the usual brush-off?"

"I did. And I know that it isn't my place to say, or any of ours really, but-"

"So don't say anything. I don't know what kind of message Cole passed on, but I said everything I needed to say to him fifteen years ago."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Walter said with upraised hands. Just thought that I would mention it."

"I am going to bed then, if there is nothing else." Nobody said anything, and I turned around and reentered my bedroom as Zoey left it. I flopped face-down onto my bed and closed my eyes.

**OoOoO**

This is not the dream I am expecting.

I am expecting the burned-out corpse of a city, a supersized Infraworld portal in the background.

I am in a white-tiled room, massive, with what was unmistakably a condenser unit, albeit larger than any other than I had ever seen. _"Those idiot sons-of-bitches."_ I knew this was coming, I had dreamed it for a decade and a half, but seeing it, seeing the device that was going to cause the end of the world was not the same thing.

I had spent years after the Black Sun incident wondering how the people in charge could be so stupid-blind as to keep toying with the condenser technology after failure on failure, but I eventually realized that they did not see the Maryland, Kaziristan and Black Sun events as failures, but learning experiences trying to master the next nuclear technology.

"_Initiating portal room lockdown. All personnel please evacuate the room. Primary and secondary access locked down."_

"_Containment field powering up. Sixty percent. Seventy percent. Eighty percent. Ninety percent. Containment field one-hundred percent strength."_

"_All safety protocols in place. Infraworld condenser powering up."_

The two 'arms' of the device that would tear a hole into the Infraworld started humming, the pads of the 'fingers' glowing blue-white with power. The condenser took a few minutes to warm up before the air started shimmering. A black-fringed orange line eventually forming, thickening, splitting.

"_Infraworld portal stabilized at 17.3 meters in diameter. Containment field remaining at one-hundred percent. Gentlemen, the Black Sun Mark II is operational. Good work."_

**OoOoO**

I awoke with a gasp, sheets tangled around my legs, covered in a cold sweat. I sat up and kicked my legs over the side of my bed looking at the clock.

There was a knock on my door, Zoey stepping in as I turned to flick the lamp on. She was wide eyes, hands trembling a little.

"You saw it," I said. She nodded.

"It's started, hasn't it?"

I nodded. The clock read 12:01. It was November 2nd, 2029. All Souls Day.

**OoOoO**

**A/N**: So this is clearly not Shinigami no Naruto. The next chapter of that is coming eventually, but until then, this will have to tide you over. As I do not have a PS3, I am writing this from the wiki and Youtube walkthroughs, so blame any inconsistencies on that.

Please feel free to tell me anything that is clearly wrong, or overdone, or you don't like. While I am writing this mostly for myself, input and criticism is appreciated.


	2. Preparation

**Preparation**

**November 2nd, 2039**

"You are absolutely sure about this?" Tuesday was understandably upset the next morning, everyone gathered at the table for Zoey and me to reveal what we had seen.

"If it hasn't happened yet, it will soon. There is no mistaking what Zoey and I saw. The DPA and the CIA are back in the ending-the-world business."

"So what do we do now?"

I leaned over, resting my fists on the table. "What we have been planning for over a decade. Nothing changes. Everyone goes to work and school like everything is normal. Walter, contact Cole, see if he has any information on what is going on with the DPA. Stan, go down to the subbasement and double check that our go-bags are ready. Jimmy, you are on news duty. Stay on the internet and keep an eye out for anything that could be related to the new Infraworld rift. Tuesday, you have today off, right?" She nodded. "Clean up the apartment. I don't think we are going to have to bail anytime in the immediate future, but no need to tempt fate." I paused for a moment, looking at my family. "You guys know what is coming; I have shown it to you. We have all prepared for this day. You all know what to do, and I know you will do it with the thoroughness that I have come to expect from you all. More than anything else, be careful. It is still early days, but no reason to get sloppy because of it. And just in case the worst does happen, I love you all. Any questions?"

Zoey raised her hand. "Yeah, what happened to going Darth Vader on Emily, Rachel and Samantha's asses?"

"In due time, Zoey. The moment that you out yourself as a psychic, Chicago is burned. That kind of news will make light look like it moves in bullet time. When the news reaches them, the CIA and DPA will drop the mother of all manhunts on us. My face will be on every television and watchlist in the country, quickly followed by yours and the rest of this family's when they learn about them. So yes, we will get your payback, but not before we are ready. Understand?"

"Sorry. Yeah I get it. I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. We have been living under the radar here for fifteen years. Just because they have ignited another Black Sun does not mean that they are onto us yet. We have time as long as everyone stays smart and follows the plan. Now get to it."

Everyone did just that, Zoey returning a minute later with her bag. Neither of us said much in the ten minutes it took for us to get her to her school. She waved goodbye, and I headed out on my first errand.

While I had a general idea of the shape that the future was going to take, Aiden had not been able to narrow it down past 'post-apocalyptic.' The ruined cityscape in my recurring vision was so… worn as to be unidentifiable. For all I knew, the city I looked over every night could be Beijing, New Delhi, Tokyo or Vladivostok. And while I was pretty sure that it was going to be the American paranormal research community that would bring on Zoey's war, I had not forgotten that it was the backwater nation of Kazirstan that I had been sent to, rather than China, India, Pakistan or Iran. That had been a decade and a half ago; I rather doubted that the CIA and the Kaziri intelligence had been able to keep a lid on knowledge of the Infraverse in the intervening time.

As a result, I had cultivated a network of friends and acquaintances on both sides of the law in preparation for the day that we had to go underground. My first stop was in downtown Chicago.

I had never figured out why he was called Middle, aside from the obvious, but he was the slipperiest operator I had met since I left the CIA. He had been arrested half a dozen times for various offenses involving guns or drugs in the last year or so, but he hadn't spent more than a weekend in lockup at one time. He seemed to have half of Chicago's criminal element on speed-dial and never failed me, no matter how shady the request. While everyone had ten thousand dollars in assorted denominations in their go-bags, I figured that having a working relationship with someone who had access to lots of untraceable cash could only be an asset.

I parked the car half a block from Middle's club and waited forty-five minutes for him to arrive. When he did it was in classic inner-city gangster fashion, which is to say in a black Escalade with a half-dozen goons. Middle was not much to look at, purebred African black, of average height with a runner's physique but he was one of the savviest members of Chicago's criminal community.

"Jodie, what the hell are you doing here girl?" he greeted with a wide smile, adjusting his black plastic-rimmed glasses before initiating our coordinated handshake and hug. He was sentimental like that.

I returned his smile and nodded to his escort. They all eyed me with careful respect. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I would swing by."

"Sorry to say that everyone is paid up at the moment, so I don't have any work for you, but you're welcome to hang out and have a drink if you want."

"I didn't come by looking for work, actually, I just wanted to know how that thing that we talked about last week was coming along."

"Come inside and we will talk."

I waved him off when he offered me a drink in his office, leaning back in one of the cheap, thin-cushioned chairs on the near side of his desk. "So before we go any further, I have to say that this is some pretty serious hardware you have asked me to get. You are one of the most dangerous motherfuckers I have ever met and that includes cartel enforcers and hit men. You clearly have some serious military training under your belt so I am not saying this because I think you can't handle this kind of weight. I know you can, and handle it a hell of a lot better than any of my guys. The assault rifles, pistols, shotguns and SMGs I can get you. It's the military-grade ruggedized laptops, smartphones and body armor, GPS locators and plastic explosives that has me concerned. This is the kind of shit that gets people on terrorist watch lists. We have known each other for a long time now, and while I do trust you, I can't let you have the heavy stuff without knowing you aren't going to attack the Federal Reserve or the White House or the Pentagon or something. Who you going to war with Jodie?"

"Nobody you would believe."

"Then you are going to have to make me believe."

"You are going to think that I am insane."

"We are already past that point, girl, because there is no sane reason for a nice white girl like you to need this kind of equipment." I leaned back in my chair and considered Middle. We had known each other for about five years now and I was quite certain that he meant what he said.

I leaned forward, staring him straight in the eye, trying to impart as much seriousness as I could. "Do you have any recording devices watching this room?"

"Of course."

"You will turn them off and unplug whatever storage and monitoring devices they are connected to. I will not say anything else until you do this."

Middle pressed a button on his desk and told his men to do as I ordered. "Where are you going?" he asked when I got up.

"To make sure that your guys actually do what they are supposed to." I returned a few minutes later with the power cords to all the monitors, cameras and recording drives, after checking that there were no spares. "Now tell them to all take a seat out on the floor where I can keep an eye on them."

Middle cocked an eyebrow. "Has anyone ever told you that you have trust issues?"

"It's been suggested. Now do as I say, or I am leaving right now and you will never see me again."

"Alright, alright. Just gimme a sec. You unplugged my intercom."

When everything was to my satisfaction, I closed the door to Middle's office and spoke. "You will not repeat anything I am about to show you to anyone. Not your wife, not your girlfriend, your mother, your kids or your priest. If you do, it will not just be your life and freedom at stake, but everyone in your entire crew and your family, not to mention me and mine. You break this rule I will know, and I will come back and kill you. You know that I can do that. Don't ask me how I will know, all you need to be concerned with is that I will. Do you understand?"

Middle gave me a look that said that he was seriously reevaluating my sanity. To be honest, I couldn't blame him. "Yeah I get it Jodie. Not a breath to anyone."

"Good. Now hold out your hands." He leaned forward to place his hands palms up in the middle of his desk as I put mine on his. I closed my eyes and summoned up the most pertinent memories, leaving out as much about my family as I could and fanned the psychic flame of my will until it touched his forehead. His head snapped back and he gasped, slouching back in his seat the moment the transference was complete. He sat back up a moment later, fumbling at one of his desk drawers and pulling out a pistol in a trembling hand.

"That was… I… What the… The Black Sun…"

"Middle, take deep breaths and relax. I know it is a lot to take in, so give yourself a moment."

"Holy fuck, Jodie. I don't have the words to fucking describe what the fucking fuck I just fucking saw. I mean seriously, what the fucking fuck was that?"

"Well, you have certainly illustrated the diversity of the word."

Middle yanked a desk drawer open and withdrew a nickel-plated Colt 1911. "Jodie, you need to stop being cryptic and coy and shit and tell me _what. The. Fuck. Just. Happened._"

"I showed you the end of the world, plain and simple."

"Plain and simple are the last two fucking words I would use to describe… whatever the fuck that was. I am of half a fucking mind to call my guys in here and-"

"And what, Middle? If you stopped to think that thought through to its logical end, you would realize that would be the most colossally stupid decision of your life. You know why? Because you know me. You know that I trained your entire crew. I taught them just about everything they know. But I did not teach them everything _I_know." I smiled. "Here is what you will do: you will stay where you are, you will not call your goons up here and you will keep taking deep breaths while you process what I just showed you. Only then will you say something. Clear?"

Middle nodded, slouching back in his chair, gun falling to his lap. I generally considered Middle to be a reasonably intelligent individual, but I wondered if I had shown him too much. God knew that it had taken Tuesday and the others to long enough to come to terms with the single vision that was what I showed them at first, and unlike my family, I did not have the time to ease Middle into it.

"Better now?" I asked ten minutes later.

"Yeah… I think so."

"You going to shoot me?"

He started, replaced the Colt from where he got it. "The CIA is hunting you. Question: how do you know that I won't turn you in?"

"Two reasons. One, you are smarter than that. You know that I would know it was you and I would come after you. Two, you know that I am the only thing standing between the world and what I showed you. You know what a bad idea turning me in would be. Plus you like me."

"I ever tell you that you can be kind of a bitch some times?"

"I smiled. "Never."

"Well you are. You still rolling in that junker gas hybrid?" I nodded. "Good. You should have plenty of trunks space for your stuff."

"And you got everything that I asked for?"

Middle pulled out the sheet of paper that had my shopping list on it. "I was able to get about half the things on your list. You are going to have to get the electronics, laptops, explosives and body armor elsewhere. The AN/PRC-182 Multiband Inter/Intra Team Radios are particularly hard to get. Apparently, you have to steal those radios from the Army and my guys are not capable of that. I run guns, drugs and pussy. I don't deal in military hardware."

"Know anyone who does?"

"Normally, I would say this is not a guy you want to know, but I know you can handle yourself."

"Who is he?"

"Armenian asshole by the name of Aram Keshisyan. Dude is hardcore, traffics in guns, explosives, RPGs, even heard that he has drones for sale, seriously heavyweight shit like that. He runs half the city and arms all of it. Listen Jodie, if you do go talk to him, you can't go alone."

"Mhm. What would be the best way to get in contact with him?"

"Personally. Guy doesn't do business except face-to-face and doesn't deal with strangers."

"Will you give me an introduction?"

"Figured you'd ask. I was planning on inviting myself along in any case."

"Nice to know. When can we do this?"

"We can get your stuff loaded into your car and be on our way."

"Sounds good." The guns and ammo were in six black duffel bags that barely fit in my trunk and then we all piled into Middle's SUV and drove forty-five minutes across town.

Keshisyan operated out of a restaurant diner on the north side of town. We parked on the curb and entered the diner, one of Middle's guys staying with the truck.

"Sup Bernie. The boss in?"

"In the office," Bernie replied, putting a box on the bar. Middle and his thugs disarmed, placing their pistols and cellphones in the box before Bernie patted them down. I was similarly searched and only then were we allowed down the hall. Keshisyan's office was about half the size of the dining area, the man I assumed to be Keshisyan seated behind the desk. He leaned back in his chair and twined his fingers behind his head. He was well dressed, in a grey silk coat over a cream silk shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He had a heavy gold-and-silver wristwatch that complemented the three-hundred-dollar haircut and five-hundred-dollar shoes that were propped up on the desk.

"Good morning, Charles. I had not expected to see you today." His voice was smoothly East European but with a slight lilt that made me think British university.

"Same could be said of me, boss, but I have a special order I need to make."

"Then you are in the right place, as you know. May I assume that this is the famous Jodie White?"

"You know me?" I crossed my arms over my chest and eyed the man a little more carefully.

"There aren't many middle-aged white women with your skills working for black. People notice that kind of thing. So which one of you is buying?"

"I am. This is what I need and I need it immediately."

Keshisyan took the paper I offered him and whistled. "You do not screw around. Eight AN/PRC-182 MBITRs, two military-grade ruggedized laptops, eight ruggedized smartphones with satellite capability, ten pounds of C-6 and four pounds of explosive putty. This is some serious stuff, but you know that. If you had walked in with anybody other than dear Charles, I would be inclined to wonder if there was an FBI strike team outside. I am not normally in the habit of selling this kind of equipment to complete strangers, but I am willing to help a friend out. Plus, you hardly strike me as the terrorist type."

"Some would say that makes me the perfect terrorist."

"Some would," he agreed. "But the fact that Charles is here making your introduction makes me think otherwise. If there is one thing Charles doesn't do, it is associate with terrorists."

"So you will get me the things on my list?"

"I will. But the radios are going to take some time and that kind of explosives weight is going to cost you. But you wouldn't be here if you couldn't pay."

"How long? I need this stuff as soon as possible. I am willing to compensate you for expediting this."

"Unfortunately, you caught me at a bad time in terms of product stock. Three days for the explosives, laptops and phones. Two weeks at a minimum for the radios."

"Okay on the first, not okay on the second. I can't wait two weeks for those radios. I am willing to pay an extra twenty percent if you can get them next week."

"You don't even know how much I am charging you."

I smiled. "I can afford it."

"Yes, I imagine you can. But in any case, the answer is still no can do. You can't just pick these radios up from your local Walmart. It is going to take time to set up a military base heist. If these are what you want, it is going to take at least two weeks, no less."

I frowned. "Fine. This is the number you can reach me at."

Keshisyan nodded. "Fine. And there is one final matter to discuss."

"Price."

"Correct. The electronics and explosives will run you about four grand per set. The radios…" He paused for a second, thinking. "Between hiring the guys that are going to steal them, equipment, bribes, I can't let them go for less than ten."

"I am not sure I can put twenty grand together in three days."

"Half up front will do fine."

"I can do that."

"Good. May I assume that you want your goods as I get them?"

"You would assume correctly."

He gave me what I assumed he meant as a gentlemanly nod. "Now, if there is nothing else…"

"No, I think we have covered everything I need."

"Then expect my call in three days."

I nodded and we left, collecting Middle's muscle as we went. "So that went well."

"Well enough," Middle agreed. "Just be sure that you have every dollar you owe him next time you see him. He may seem pleasant enough at first shake, but there is a reason why his organization controls half the city. Cross him and they won't find your body until spring, if then."

"Consider me well and truly warned then."

The back end of my car rode noticeably lower than it did before, but not so low as to be worrisome. My next stop was at Police Precinct 4.

I nodded at the desk sergeant who tipped his hat back at me. "Morning Sergeant Mills."

"Afternoon, Ms. Greene. Should I warn her you are on your way up?"

"No need," I tossed back over my shoulder as I stepped into the elevator.

"You know she hates it when you just drop in," Mills replied as the doors closed. I pressed the button for the fourth floor. I entered the Homicide Task Force bullpen and seated myself in the plastic-seated metal chair at the end of her desk.

"Oh. Hell. No. You get the hell up out of that chair and out of my precinct. I am not dealing with your bullshit today, Greene."

I cocked an eyebrow at Detective First Class Michelle Holt. She was a rather statuesque woman, in the most literal sense of the word, an inch or two over six feet with shoulder-length auburn hair that she swept behind one ear and across her brow, and eyes that could only be accurately described as sapphire. Her facial features were chiseled, cheek bones and jawline sharp enough to cut. In short, she was every cop drama main character, a woman beautiful enough to be a supermodel, but chose not to because of a tragic back story and that had always annoyed me a little.

"That is not the way to greet one of your most valuable CIs."

She snorted. "Most valuable CI? You know better than to think of yourself like that. Lieutenant Morgan over in IA has a permanent hard-on for me because of you."

"Is he at least good looking?"

Holt gave me a flat look. "Go away, Greene. I don't need any of your telephone fortune-teller-psychic crap today. I am all caught up on my paperwork and I don't have any of your kind of murders open at the moment."

"Who says I am here looking for work?"

"When was the last time you came down here simply to socialize?"

"Point. However, I am not here for a paycheck. I need your help."

"If you are about to ask me to get you out of a parking ticket or a bar fight or something, find someone else."

"I am not asking you to help me with a ticket. Have you had lunch yet?"

"No."

"I'm buying then."

OoOoO

Detective Holt sat back in the bench across the table from me in the diner down the street from her precinct and glared at me. "Good fucking God, Greene, what the hell was that?"

"Detective, I am going to ask you to take a breath and calm down. I know you are probably feeling a little overwhelmed but I am going to ask you to take a moment and relax."

"Don't tell me to relax, Greene. You have five seconds to start explaining what you just did or I am arresting your lily-white ass."

I was starting to think that I had made a miscalculation in reading the detective in on the Black Sun situation. "Detective, in brief, I am a psychic, ESP exists and the government knows about it all and covers it up."

"You know what? I have no idea what you slipped me, but you are under arrest for drugging a police officer."

"I have to say that this is not how I imagined this conversation would go."

"I don't doubt that one bit," Detective Holt said as she bent me over the table, cinching her handcuffs around my wrists. I was suddenly very glad that I had parked the car in a garage and nowhere near the precinct.

"Well, this is an interesting turn of events. I take it lunch didn't go so well, Sergeant Mills said with a grin as Holt perp-walked me to the HTT holding cells.

"That would be one way of putting it," I muttered.

OoOoO

"So how did that blood test turn out?"

"Clean," Holt growled. "Whatever it was you slipped me, it didn't show up on any test, and I ordered them all."

"So are you here to let me go?" I ask, jangling the handcuffs that were cinched around the steel bar in the metal bench.

"Unfortunately, yes. As my blood test came back clean and you haven't actually done anything else, the lieutenant has ordered me to cut you loose."

"What would I have to do to convince you that what I showed you is real? You have seen some of the things that I can do, mediumship, psychometry, retrocognition. Yet you doubt that I am precognitive?"

"You've never shown me anything that that can't be explained by a sharp eye and an hour on the Internet. You are smart and very good at putting puzzles together. Hell, you probably would have been a decent detective in another lifetime."

"Probably. But the thing is that I do not have much time to convince you of the truth. Do me a favor and take two steps to your right." Holt looked over her shoulder at the only camera in the room and gave me a look, but did as I asked. "Now, if I unlock these handcuffs without using my hands, would that convince you that I am not normal?"

"You don't have to convince me that you are not normal; I have known that for a long time. But if you unlock your cuffs without touching them, I will consider what you did to me."

It wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, but it was a step in the right direction. I closed my eyes and _shifted_, using Aiden to pop the latch on the cuff around my wrist and held it up. "Good enough?"

Holt squinted at me and nodded after a moment. "I am sure that I will figure out how you did that eventually, but for now, yeah."

"Good. I know you don't believe me about the end of the world, but keep an eye on the news. This thing that is coming, it is too big to hide, to cover up and to make go away. When that day comes and you finally believe, you know how to contact me."

OoOoO

"So how was everyone's day?" Everyone was seated around the dinner table as Stan set the food out. "Anybody have any problems?"

"Okay, except that Emily is still a complete and utter bitch."

"What did she do today?"

"Nothing," Zoey replied lightly to her mother's question. "But she still walks around with her nose in the air with her Barbie dolls." That earned a wry smile from everyone at the table.

"Everything is still in place," Stan told me.

"Good. Walter, Jimmy, anything to report?"

"Lots of chatter, but nothing pertinent or credible," Jimmy said as he stabbed his green beans.

"Likewise with Cole, unfortunately," Walter informed, "although he did say that the DPA's special activities section has been getting a lot of attention and resources lately."

"Well, I suppose that is better than nothing."

"He said that he would do what he could to find out what the spec-act guys were up to, but he doesn't have the access he used to."

"Yeah, that is what he told me last time we spoke, but he's pretty smart. I'm sure that he will figure out a way to let us know when we should really be worried."

"And what were you doing today, Jodie? You were late picking me up from school."

"Updating a few friends on the situation and picking some new inventory."

"New inventory? What are you talking about?"

"I have six duffel bags of guns and ammo in the back of the car that I am going to need help unloading later tonight." Before I had started training them for the apocalypse, a statement like that would have gotten splutters and alarm, now it barely caused a blink.

"I thought the car was riding a little low when you picked me up this afternoon."

I smiled. "Well, it was, and now you know why."

"Why you smiling?" Tuesday asked.

"Just thinking . Any normal group of people would be freaking out at the thought of being hunted by the CIA and having to stop the next best thing to Judgment Day, yet here you all are, not running for the hills."

"We're family, Jodie," Stan said, examining his food. "Family sticks with one another, no matter what."

"Everyone here owes you more than we can every repay. Helping you save the world is the least we can do."

"Still, I want you to know that there is nobody else in the world that I would rather have my back than the people sitting at this table. They say that today's preparation determines tomorrows success. If that is true, then I cannot imagine a group of people more prepared than those sitting around this table."

"Preparation can only get us so far though. You really think we are enough to take on the U.S. government?"

"If we were taking on the whole thing, then yes, I might be worried. But we are not taking on the entire federal government, just a very small piece of it. The thing to remember is that while the CIA is every bit as capable and dangerous as I have told you, at the end of the day, it is made of people, nothing more. And if there is anything that I have shown you, it is that people are far from perfect."

"Be that as it may, Tuesday has a point. None of us are going to give up, but it is still the CIA we are going against."

"You know what they say, 'it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.'"

Zoey rolled her eyes. "How did I know that you were going to quote somebody at us?"

"Mark Twain is not just anybody, but that is beside the point. I can't think of anything else to say to reassure you guys. I have done everything I can to prepare you for this day, and all I can say is that there is not another group of people in the world that I would rather be doing this with. I have absolute faith in you, in what we are doing. You are ready," I finished awkwardly. I had never been any great leader of men, usually the one on the ground taking orders rather than giving them, but I had not had much choice with Zoey and the rest. If I failed to train them to the best of my ability, it would mean their lives, and quite a few others. Thankfully, they were all dutiful students, as I hoped the CIA would learn when the time came.

"Well, here's to the government-sponsored end of the world," Zoey offered, raising her glass of milk, "and to us, the rag-tag bunch of misfits who aim to stop it."

"Here here," Jimmy chorused, quickly joined by the rest of the table. The conversation drifted to smaller topics; Zoey had passed a Calculus test by the skin of her teeth, Walter had given a well-received lecture to his class and Jimmy had spent most of the day avoiding work at my behest, as previously noted.

Everyone went their separate ways after dinner, Zoey to her room to do homework, Jimmy plugging back into his deck, Walter returning to his own apartment, Tuesday and I to the kitchen for cleanup. I went to see if Zoey needed any help with her homework before retiring to my room. It had been an eventful day, tiring, even if it had not involved much physical exertion, making my bed even more inviting than normal. Sleep followed in seconds.

OoOoO

**A/N:**Thoughts? Kinda struggled with Jodie here, trying to portray her as genre-savvy and maybe a little paranoid, but hopefully not too OOC.

So, the easy part is out of the way. While I do have a general outline for Zoey's War, the next update wont be for a while, while I work out the next chapter or three.

As usual, comments and criticisms are welcome.


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